


Diligence

by DeepSeaChallenger



Category: Assassin's Creed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-21 08:11:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 8,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3684759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeepSeaChallenger/pseuds/DeepSeaChallenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if the Templars had reached Edward before the Assassins?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, another IV one. I still own none of Black Flag or Assassin's Creed or it's characters.  
> What if the Templars beat the Assassins to Edward's mind? Just a random idea. This story will describe what would happen in my opinion.
> 
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> CXXX|::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::>  
> Stay sharp.

The man had just clocked him, right in the nose.  
One of his hands flew to his face, the other flying out, striking him in the gut. Several more set upon him, cursing and shouting his name. Edward tried to stand several times, only to be shoved back down and kicked repeatedly. Finally one of the men seemed to back off, and he heard a now familiar voice speak.  
"What, pray tell, is this about?"  
"Bonnett!" He hissed, struggling to his feet. Both his hands were cupped around his nose, and one of the men grabbed his arm and pulled it away. He elbowed him in the face. "Tell them who I am. Tell them my name."  
"Well... That's-That's Duncan. Walpole." He said nervously. One of the men scoffed.  
"That's not Duncan, ya pea brain. His name's Edward Kenway. One of them pirates."  
Bonnett shrugged, a nervous grin showing up on his pudgy face. "I-I don't see the difference, sirs."  
Edward glanced around warily. The men were getting anxious to fight; if Bonnett said something wrong they'd go all-out. He had to get away.  
"Oh... I didn't know that... Is-is all this true... Duncan?"  
He kept both hands pressed against his face, lowering his head. "None of it."  
Bonnett narrowed his eyes and held his hands up. "I'm sorry, Duncan. Or Edward. I can't get involved."  
Shit.  
In one swift move he lurched forward, wrapping one arm around Stede and pulling his closer, and drawing one of his cutlasses. He pressed the blade against his throat.  
"Come any closer," he growled, "and I'll kill him."  
Stede didn't struggle, instead he seemed to completely panic. "Come now, Duncan, I'm sure we can-"  
"Shut your fucking mouth." Edward snapped, backing up. He continued holding the blade to his throat.  
The men moved closer. They were all significantly older than him, and had some sort of basic training. Being 22 didn't have its advantages in this fight. Bonnett began to kick, hands scrabbling at Edward's arm.  
"Duncan, please, I beg you to recon-"  
"I said, shut up!" He released Bonnett, kicking him into the crowd of men. They drew closer, fists up.  
For the first time, Edward began to panic. There were simply too many; he was without allies in Havana and didn't have the skill to fend them off....  
He did have one advantage.  
Edward turned and ran from the courtyard, shoving an expensive looking man out of his way. He turned the corner, blood pounding in his ears and dripping from his nose.This had to work.  
The men followed, howling their challenge.  
He gritted his teeth and put in one last burst of speed, toward a group of guards. He tapped one, and frantically explained who he was.  
"Stop!" They formed a line, four breaking from that line and gesturing for him to follow.  
He heard several shouts as the men tried to break through group of guards.   
"So, Duncan. How is it you wound up... running from these men? And what is God's name happened to your nose?" The biggest guard asked. He was fully clothed in thick cloth, enough to protect from heavy damage. An ax swung at his hip.  
"I ran into a wall." He smiled sheepishly, wiping some of the blood from his face. "It was a stupid bet. They won, as you can see, and I didn't have the money to pay them."  
"You were confident you'd win."  
"Yes. Don't try to walk in a straight line after four glasses of rum." He said lightly, touching his forehead as if he had a headache, and slurring his words. "It won't work."  
"Ah." The man chuckled. "Well, Woods and Torres are good men. You'll get along quiet well."  
"I see."  
They brought him up to an extravagant building, and the gates opened.  
The guards saw his clothes and waved, eyes bright with excitement. Maybe they assumed he really was Duncan Walpole. He hoped no one had seen him.  
A gunshot rang out, and he ducked throwing himself onto the dirt face first.  
"What are you.... ah... what are you doing, sir?" One of the guards asked hesitantly. He looked up.  
"What? But didn't.... Oh. He-he likes to...."  
Woods Rogers held the gun with one hand, hitting the target square on its 'head'.  
The gaurds laughed. "You're a humorous man, sir." One chuckled.  
"Not really...." He mumbled, striding toward Woods. The man caught sight of him and handed the gun to a nearby guard.  
"Duncan Walpole, is it?" He grinned, clapping his in the shoulder and shaking hands firmly with him. Edward nodded.  
"Aye."  
"I saw the flop." He laughed. Edward rolled his eyes.  
"I've been around too many guns not to do that, Rogers." He muttered.  
"Well, come, come. Torres would like to see you. Have you brought what is needed?"  
"I have."  
"Then let's go."


	2. Mission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothin' much to say here.  
> Enjoy!
> 
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> CXXX|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::>  
> Stay sharp.

"Duncan Walpole. Are you alright?"  
Edward kept one of his hands up against his face, "I walked into a wall."  
"Oh...." Torres glanced at Woods, who shrugged. "Have you got what I asked for?"  
"Aye." With his free hand, Edward unclipped the pouch from his belt and tossed it at Torres.  
His face brightened, and he held the glass vial up to the light, a thin smile appearing on his lips. "And you've severed all ties with your Assassin brothers."  
"They were never my brothers." Edward said curtly. Everything inside of him was straining not to ask who the Assassins were.  
"Well." Torres nodded to him. "You know our kind as Templars. We welcome you."  
Woods spread his arms. "We do."  
Edward grinned lightly. He should have asked Duncan about this before he killed him. He let his hand drop to his side and winced when he felt their eyes on him.  
"Yes?"  
"Nothing. You remind me of someone my men complained about."  
"Who?" He asked casually, his heart quickening.  
"A man with blonde hair and blue eyes. With an accent...." Torres eyed him. "You wouldn't happen to know of a certain..... Edward Ken-"  
Edward lunched forward, slamming him against the wall and clamping a hand over his mouth. "Speak that name and I'll-"  
"Stop!" Hands grasped his shoulders and pulled him away. "Stop it, damnit! What the fuck is this about?" Woods slammed him against the wall, pinning his arms behind his back.  
Several guards rushed into the room, including one that was covered in armor.  
Torres waved them away, beckonging to Woods.  
"Let us be friends, Duncan. You are one of us, now. Tell me why you don't want me to utter that name."  
"I..." He rubbed the back of his neck.  
"No...." Woods backed up, pointing at Edward accusingly. "You- You're that pirate! You're Edward Kenway!"  
Torres didn't seem to care. "If you are Edward Kenway, where is Duncan Walpole?"  
He sighed, "Dead."  
"You killed him."  
"Aye."  
"I have the vial..... but not the secrets of the Assassins." He nudged Woods' arm with his own. "It matters not. They want the Sage and we have him. They don't know where the Observatory is."  
"Observatory?" Edward asked.  
"That's not for you, pirate!" Woods sneered at him.  
"Enough." Torres turned to him. "You have lied. You are not an Assassin. You know nothing of the Templars, or of the Observatory-"  
"So? I can fight with a sword. I can steer a ship and trick people like you."  
"You have." Torres considered it. "If you can.... remove.... an Assassin from Havana for me, I will welcome you to the Templars and tell you everything I know about the Observatory."  
"But-" Torres slapped Woods, so the short man stumbled back and held his face, seething with anger.  
"Enough of you! I will speak with you later."  
Woods spat at Edward, stalking off.  
"Where is this.... Assassin residing at?"  
"By the docks. Where exactly I don't know." Torres opened a small box, holding up a silver ring to the light. "Before you go, I need to give you the clothes of a Templar, and the ring of one. The guards will know you are a friend of the governor and will leave you alone."

***

"Much better than those retched Assassin robes." Torres said, as Edward walked back into the room.  
He studied himself in the small pool of water.  
Instead of the blue and red he had worn before, now he wore clothes that bore a similar form, but with different colors, brown and red and tan.  
"Better." He said. There was none of the previous stains and marks on it, especially the triangle that seemed almost like a hood. Apparently it was the mark of the Assassins.  
Torres displayed the silver ring to him. "Put this on. It reminds us ever of our purpose, to guide way word souls, minds, and hearts to peace."  
He liked the sound of that.  
Edward slipped it onto his hand, studying it. "Won't this make me conspicuous to the Assassin?"  
"If you survive this encounter, you will be inaugerated as a Templar. Learn to blend into a crowd, or hide in a haystack, and you shall be fine."  
He nodded.  
If he survived.

***

There he was.  
A young man, who said stood on the docks, chatted casually with a townsperson.  
Edward perched on the wall, then jumped into the water, opening his eyes as wide as they woods go to watch the Assassin through the water. Torres had told him the name, James Kidd.  
He slipped under the docks, coming up from the water as silently as possible.  
"..... We plan to attack Torres tonight."  
"Have you heard of the new man he's found? Another to replace the one you killed?"  
"No.... Ah haven't."  
"His name was supposedly Duncan Walpole, but rumor has it he's not really Duncan."  
"Who is he, then?"  
"Edward Kenway. People believe he's a pirate."  
Edward pulled himself up slowly, onto the docks. He stepped closer to James, when the boy suddenly turned and struck him in the face.  
Edward swore as he balanced on the edge of the docks, on his heels. Then he fell back into the water.  
"Templar!" James cried, holding up his hand. A hidden blade slid out, and the boy came closer to the edge. "Trying to assassinate me, are ya?"  
He grinned. "You're a dead man walking, Kidd."  
James smiled back. "Are ya sure it's not you?"  
"What?" The grin faded from his face.  
James turned on his heels and ran through the crowds of people, shouting back over his shoulder.  
"Try and catch me, ya little bastard!"


	3. Games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No notes here.  
> Why are you still looking? ;)
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> CXXX|::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::>

Edward swore loudly and hauled himself onto the deck, wiping water from his eyes. The civilian stared at him, eyes wide.  
"What're you looking at?" He snapped, and the man started, covering his face and stalking in the other direction.  
Edward stared at the crowds, trying to decipher where James had gone.  
On the rooftops, a flash of green caught his attention and he took off after it, climbing some unlucky merchant's shop to get there.  
"Come back, mate!" He shouted. "I'll kneecap you!"  
James sprinted over the rooftops, glancing back with a smug smile. "Not if ah do it to you! Keep your distance or I'll unman you!"  
Edward looked uncertainly between his legs, then after James, deciding the young man didn't have the guts to do something like that. He had s job to do and it appeared Torres would give him something worth more than money for this boy's head.  
Not a man.  
He frowned, slowed to a lope and then coming to a halt. What was he doing? Going after a boy for money?  
James stopped in his tracks and put his hands on his knees, panting.  
"Give up?" He shouted.  
Edward squinted at him, then nodded slowly. "Forget it..."  
"Good." James straightened and stalked forward, so he stood face-to-face with Edward. "Because we Assassins don't just forget things."  
He jerked his knee up, the bone sinking into Edward's stomach. The air whooshed from his lungs and his knees folded, so he was in a crouching postition trying to breath again.  
"Especially not people in Templar clothing." He reached down and grasped Edward's chin, forcing him to stare straight at him. "You're new here."  
He pulled back, still trying to catch his breath.  
"Fuck no," He lied, "I've lived here all my life."  
"Sure. Edward Kenway."  
He stood up, tackling James before he could say another word. The boy just gazed up at him, determination in his eyes.  
"Do it, Kenway. Kill me. Yer conscious, man, not mine."  
"I'm not going to kill you."  
James laughed. "That's right. You don't have the fucking balls."  
Edward punched him in the face then grabbed his collar and pulled him into a standing position. "I could throw you off this roof. I could shoot you in the head or beat you to death. But I'm not going to. Instead, I'm taking you to Torres."  
James laughed again. "May as well kill me now, then, Kenway."

+

Maybe this 'Edward Kenway' deserved to keep his manhood. He didn't seem to care one Realle about her life, but he didn't seem to want to kill her either. If anything the man looked torn, and his eyes kept shifting nervously around the city. No, he hadn't lived here all his life, and she could see he wasn't very willing to hurt her. If she wanted to she could have disarmed him, unmanned him, kicked him off the roof, and tear out of there before he even knew what had happened.  
Something kept her back.  
There was something in his eyes that blared unloyaltly to the clothes he wore. Any Templar knew to kill any Assassin they could get their hands on; Either Edward was new to their order or he had a rational bit of sense in his mind. Most likely both. Despite his rough way of speaking and the way he looked utterly lost in the city, he showed Assassin potential. He would shove her forward and vanish momentarily, then reappear without a sound. He would duck around corners and whistle to distract anyone in their way, and the person would disappear.  
Yes, this one showed potential.

+

Edward shoved him forward and slipped into the shadows, as a guard walked by. He knew he had access to the entire city now that he bore Templar clothes, but he didn't dare test it. Not after the fight and after hearing of the rumors those pirates were spreading about him. Every now and then James would look back with a questioning air, and he would jerk his thumb at him to keep walking.  
"Ya know..."  
"Shut up." He grunted, keeping his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Just keep moving."  
"Have it yer way."  
Five minutes later, James stopped, frowning. "Yer going the wrong way, mate. Torres is that way." He looked back.  
Edward stopped, momentarily confused. "What?"  
"Behind you." James said. "How do you forget to see that man's dark domain?"  
"I didn't.... I..." he glanced around and sighed. "Fine. Lead the way. If you're trying to throw me off...."  
"I'm not." He said. "Trust me."


	4. Suspect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This came a little late, but oh well. ;)
> 
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> CXXX|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::>  
> Stay sharp.

"I told you to kill him."  
Edward winced, flicking his eyes over the ground. "He's.... He's just a boy."  
James looked over his shoulder and back again at Torres, trying to create his face a mask of innocence. "And yer all just a bunch o' Templars, I'm guessing?"  
Edward's head snapped up and he narrowed his eyes at Torres, who was standing on the balcony with his arms folded. "You told me you'd explain these Assassins and Templars."  
Torres rolled his eyes, and before he could speak, James piped up. "Templars are the very manifestation of greed. Torres is no different- the Templars will eventually destroy it, and only we st-"  
Woods came from behind, clamping a hand over his mouth and another on his shoulder. "That's.... quite enough of you."  
He led James away, and Edward watched them go before turning on Torres.  
"What is all this? Just why did you want me to kill him?"  
"He poses a threat to us, Edward. Assassins mean to stand in our way, from getting to the Observatory."  
"Observatory."  
"Yes. It is of immense power, and with a vial of the Sage's blood it will be opened. If we can get every man, every woman and child in the world to give us a drop of their blood.... we would be able to see through their eyes, the world. Think of the possibilities, Edward." He lowered his voice to a tanterlizing whisper, and drew out the last word.  
Possibilities? Why would someone want to see someone else's life? What was the point? Another thought flickered across his brain and he suppressed it. It was doubtful he could sell it to the right person for a large amount if money. Not without Torres hunting him down.  
"You said a Sage is needed to open the Observatory. Who is he?"  
"Ah." Torres went to the edge of the balcony and out his hands on the railing. "Come here."  
Edward remained where he was, glancing back at the three gaurds blocking the doorway. He knew he was welcome, but this was an odd place and he wanted a way out if it came down to it.  
"Have it your way." Torres said. "Do you have any qualms about being a Templar? Thoughts or questions?"  
"Why are you so opposed to the Assassins? James was just a boy, and you sent me to kill him. Are they that much of a.... a threat to your cause?" He asked, looking out over the city. Torres clicked his tongue, nodding.  
"The things they do, the lies they tell.... Assassins are sly little creatures. We Templars are here to guide whoever may stray from the peaceful path."  
"Regardless of what happens."  
Torres turned around, crossing his hands behind his back. A look of concern had crossed his face. "Edward....."  
Edward nodded his head in his direction, folding his arms.  
"I wanted to ask you.... just what the hell did you do to the real Duncan Walpole?"  
"He's dead. That's all."  
"How, though? He was an extremely skilled Assassin. Trained since he could walk. Yet here you are, untrained, unskilled, probably.... I doubt he would fall to such youth."  
Edward grinned. "We fought. With basic swords. He was wounded in the side, though. Fought like fucking hell."  
Torres nodded grimly. "You must be skilled, then."  
Edward shrugged. "Maybe. I have yet to test it against an uninjured man."  
Torres nodded again, sighing. "Well, the day is very young. I would suggest exploring the city while I hold conference with Woods."  
"Aye." Edward replied. Torres stepped past him, and as he did, he placed a hand on Edward's shoulder.  
"You'll make a fine Templar."

*

This wasn't the end of it. Something Torres was telling him just didn't add up. Once the man had left, Edward followed, peering around corners and ducking into shadows whenever he looked back.  
Finally Torres arrived at a large,'open walled room, and Woods was waiting for him. Edward crouched by the wall, leaning forward to hear what they were saying.  
".... Happened to James Kidd?"  
"He's to be hanged tomorrow."  
"And for what?"  
"Treason.... Now this Edward Kenway.... what is it he did to Duncan Walpole?"  
"He killed him. That's exactly why I wanted to meet with you. Edward worries me. He's to quiet, too willing to be softhearted.... And toward and Assassin! I sense a turncoat in him, Rogers; and I think you do as well."  
"What should we do?"  
"Keep him connected for now. Dispatch people to follow him when he leaves the plaza. Make sure he isn't aware of it; he shows the abilities of Master Assassins."  
"Aye... I will. I presume he is to be... dealt with... when we find the Observatory?"  
"Indeed, Woods. Unless he does something to show he is fully committed to our cause, do not trust him with all out information."  
"Torres...."  
"What?"  
"He's here?"  
Edward's eyes widened and he pushed off the wall, standing to his full height in the doorway. "Get rid of me?"  
Torres gaped, and woods' mouth worked as though he wanted to speak, but couldn't.  
"I don't think so, Torres." Edward snarled, stepping forward slowly. Woods backed away, drawing his gun.  
"Please, don't, Edward. I'd hate to bloody the grounds. They've been cleaned and primed and we only have the supplies for a yearly scrub."  
Edward out his hands up, freezing in place. He glared at Torres. "Why? Why get rid of me?"  
"We weren't talking about you...."  
Edward knew. He knew they were lying. Still, he narrowed his eyes as though he was suspicious, and finally nodded.  
"Perhaps it was James?"  
Torres and Woods exchanged looks, and Woods lowered his gun, nodding. ".... Yes. James. He is to be.... imprisoned for a while, is all."  
Edward slowly allowed his hands to fall to his side, shrugging. "I suppose so."  
But he had heard. He had heard that they intended to hang him for treason. And his mind was already in overdrive, working to form a plan.  
He would free this boy, and ask him about the Assassins.


	5. Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. :)
> 
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> CXXX|::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::>  
> Stat sharp.

Edward looked around warily, eyes sliding over every person in the street. There were very few, seeing as it was midnight and the moon was pale and bright. A merchant half-asleep on a stool, a few women hanging laundry, and several drunkards passed out along the sides of the street. In the main center, peering at some of the merchant's wares, was a group of people.  
Edward studied each one carefully. One of them was a spy Torres had sent to keep track of him. All he had to do, really, was fine the Templar symbol anywhere on his clothes.  
One man looked up at him, then averted his eyes when they landed on Edward. He sighed.  
This was too easy.  
With a merry whistle, he moved closer, as though he was terribly fixated on a half-empty bottle of rum by someone's dorrstep. He was partially interested, but deduced that it wasn't a good idea; the alcohol would fog his mind and tonight he needed it clear.  
The man he was watching glanced up and squinted suspicuosly, then looked back down on the apple he seemed utterly focused on polishing.  
Edward stepped forward and moved directly behind the spy, flexing his fingers in anticipation. He didn't want to kill the man, and he didn't have to. If he went missing, Torres would know Edward was aware of everything and he would get rid of him.  
He didn't want that.  
So he grabbed the man's shoulder and pulled him closer, leaning in like he was casually mentioning the brightness of the apple. In reality he was gripping his shoulder with such force it seemed the bone would pop.  
"Follow me and I'll kill you. Not a word to Torres.... Or your family goes with you. Am I clear?"  
The man nodded, shaking.  
"Good. Have a goodnight, sir." Edward forced a smile and realeased his arm, turning toward the rest if the city. Funny, he thought. Duncan Walpole had spoken the same words to him weeks ago. Yet he'd followed and not been killed.  
Now all he had to do was find the prison.

***

She drifted in and our of sleep, jumping every time she heard the guards move. They had said she would die tomorrow. She would be hanged because of her treason.  
Treason?  
For what?  
For being an Assassin, she decided. Maybe she could lie and say she didn't want to be one anymore. That she wanted to be a Templar; amend her 'sins' against the Order.  
Or maybe even just try and escape on her own.  
The guards spoke to each other frantically in Spanish, just as a loud bang came from the far side of the prison. Everyone in the cells sat up and fumbled for the front bars, instantly awake. She stood and did the same, craning her neck. One guard nodded and left, drawing his sword and cautously creeping to the far side of the prison.  
A grin crossed her face.  
She reached through the bars, grasping the guard's jacket and pulling him back so hard his head struck the metal with a loud crack. He sank to the ground, out like a candle.  
There was a crash if metal on metal, a cry of rage, and then a shriek of fear. The prison went uncharictaristicaly silent, and suddenly she didn't want to know who was behind it.  
Then the man she'd seen before, Edward, appeared, holding a pair of keys and a bloody sword. His eyes swept around the prison before settling on her, and for a moment she thought she saw suspicion flash through them. Then it was gone and he grinned proudly, holding up the keys.  
"James, is it?"  
"Yes."  
"I need your help."  
"With what?" She reached out and tried to take the keys, but he lifted them higher and stepped away, an arrogant smirk replacing his smile. She wanted to slap it off his face.  
"Explaining something. I want you to-"  
He yowled something in rapid Spanish, and it was her turn to give Edward an arrogant smirk.  
"Understanding it well?"  
Without lifting his piercing gaze from the guard, Edward shook his head. "Do you?"  
"Not really. Yer fucked, mate."  
Edward cursed, throwing the keys down and ducking as another shot whizzed over his head, hitting the ceiling. He dove forward, driving his sword into the man's neck.  
He moved no more.  
"Now give me those damn keys!" She growled, swiping them from the ground.  
He made a grab for them, but this time luck won out and Mary held them up, backing away from the door.  
With a groan of frustration, Edward pressed his face against the bars and hung both arms in them as well, so he looked like a prisoner.  
"For fuck's sake, Kidd."  
"Why do ya need me so suddenly, Edward? Or is it Duncan?"  
"I'm Edward. Kenway." He added, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling, "I came here to get you out."  
"For?"  
"Answers. And you're too.... young to be hanged."  
"Ah see." She said, working the keys into the lock. The bars slid open, and Edward stepped back, eyes hopeful and searching her face for sympathy. "Alright." She said, folding hr arms. "Ya got one minute before ah run out o' here and leave you to face the guards."  
He paled. "Well.... I don't... I..."  
"Spit it out, mate. There are other people here." She said quickly. He glanced around.  
"Right. I don't think these Templars are.... rightious."  
"In the way of money."  
He opened his mouth, then decided against it and shrugged.  
"The Assassins are much better, mate. We love laughter and joy. It's not all about killing.... Nothing is true. Everything is permitted." She said carefully. "Remember that. If you ever get away from these Templars, find me, or another Assassin. Repeat those words and they'll take you to Ah Tabai. From there.... that depends on skill, and strength of mind and soul."  
He nodded. "Aye."  
Mary clapped him since on the shoulder, then room off down the prison, out of the exit. He didn't follow her.

***

"There was a break-in at the prison. Someone freed the little rat." Torres said to them. Woods and Edward were both standing, arms crossed, on the balcony. Torres tapped the table and shook his head. "We need to be more wary. There may be more than one Assassin lurking around here."  
"Aye." Edward nodded. "Maybe it was pirates, not another Assassin."  
He could barely focus. Excitement had replaced his previous brooding, like he'd swallowed ten canes of sugar.  
Nothing is true....  
The Templars were liars, so it seemed.  
Everything is permitted.....  
Sounded good to him.  
"Edward." Someone snapped fingers in front if his face, and he blinked, snapping to the presently. Woods gestured to Torres.  
"Pay attention to him, mate."  
"Oh... yes." He said, nodding to Torres. The man shrugged and said nothing, stepping back.  
"Higher watch... When we catch the little rat we'll kill him on the spot...." He squinted at Edward. "... Hmm. I'll give you five thousand Realle for the boy's head."  
Edward's mouth dropped open, and he stuttered, barely able to form the words, "But.. but he's..."  
"An Assassin? A murderer of our brethren? The manifestation of-"  
"Sure, all that." Edward waved a hand. "But he's just a boy. Have mercy."  
Woods and Torres stared at him, and burst out laughing.  
"Mercy? Look at that, Torres, there's a heart beatin' in that chest of his!" Woods proclaimed, thudding Edward's chest with his fist.  
Edward glared at him, one of his hands curling into a fist. He wanted to punch Woods, to throw everything he had into a fight with him.... but it would ruin his chances of getting his Realle.  
What Realle? His didn't intend to do it.  
Or maybe....  
He relaxed his hand, a plan forming in his mind.


	6. Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah. These are fun to write. :)
> 
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> 
>  
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> CXXX|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::>  
> Stay sharp.

Edward had to find him.  
He had to find out where James had gone, and he wanted to do it soon. He could receive the Realle (Only equivalent to five hundred pounds, the way he saw it, which wasn't a lot.) and work with James. Maybe the young man would lead him to the Assassins. Maybe there was better pay....  
He leaned against the wall and watched the crowds come and go across Havana.  
Did he really want the money? Was it worth it to take another man's life?  
He turned the question over in his mind, taking different views and thinking more in depth about it than he'd ever thought in his life.  
No, he decided, it wasn't. There had to be something more than money involved for it to cost a man's life.  
But did he care enough to release his dreams of being rich, and being with his wife?  
He sighed, bringing up his arm to study the mark of the Templars on his sleeve.  
He didn't care enough. That dream was a part of him, a part of his mind now. And it seemed nothing could beat that out of him.  
Some things just didn't change.  
He looked up at the wrong time, when someone familiar walked by. That pudgy, short man, with yellow hair and a nervous grin....  
Edward pushed off the wall, walking forward and falling in step behind Stede.  
The man turned at just the wring moment, and Edward flashed an arrogant, cocky smile.  
Stede's eyes widened and he ducked his head, walking faster.  
Edward let his mouth twist into a sneer of disgust, then he grabbed the man's shoulder, whipping him around.  
"Oh! Uh.... E-Edward, right? No, Duncan? Fancy seeing you here...." Stede stuttered, giving a weak grin. Edward's gaze darkened.  
"What happened about a week ago that you couldn't help a friend?"  
"Nothing! They were- they were just big... and they were angry.... I didn't w-want to get involved!"  
Edward laughed, shifting tones to project feigned instability. "You were scared, weren't you? A weak, frightened little rat!"  
"D-Duncan, I don't think...." Stede tried to back away, but Edward kept him rooted in place, shaking his head. People were staring at them now.  
"If I ever lay eyes upon you again...."  
He pushed the man away, turning on his heels and stalking off. Stede had given him away, and forced him to go off the plan he'd made before. As a result, he didn't want the cowardly man near him ever again.

***

Mary crouched on the rooftop, watching the exchange. A simple assassination target, one down by the docks, would have to wait. She'd been heading toward the place when Edward had caught her eye. All he was doing was leaning aghast a wall, staring at his sleeve.... But she wanted to stay and see what happened. Trouble either followed him or he caused it, she'd noted.  
Then that yellow-haired man had walked by, and Edward had grabbed his arm. The exchange was brief, but it visibly set the man at unease, although Edward looked angry, if anything.  
"Edward!" She called, leaping down from the building. She landed in a haystack, and leapt out of it, brushing the strands from her eyes and jogging toward him. Edward stopped and turned, his eyes brightening when he saw her."Who was that?"  
"He.... It doesn't matter anymore. What are you doing here?"  
"You aren't a very timid man, it seems. I was heading somewhere else when you caught my eye. Ah thought you were going t' kill him."  
He shrugged. "I wasn't, really. He's too cowardly." Then he seemed to rethink that, and lowered his gaze. "This world needs more people like him."  
Suddenly his gaze flicked up, and his eyes darted from side to side, analyzing the crowd. "James- can we meet somewhere else? Tonight by the docks?"  
"Fine, mate. Why?"  
He shook his head. "Torres plans to send some to follow me whenever I leave the plaza."  
"Shit." She said. "So that means....."  
"Run." He jerked his chin up at a cruel looking Spaniard, who was leaning against the wall where Edward had been, twirling a sword in his hand and smiling malaciously.  
And he was looking right at them.  
Mary pushed Edward aside- giving him an apologetic look- and sprinted for several crates, which were lined up by the wall. She pulled herself up and started climbing, watching Edward step toward the man with a nervous grin on his face.


	7. Attempts

Edward forced a grin and held out both hands, nearing the Tenplar man. Instead of heeding his grin, the man spat at his feet.  
Edward failed to maintain the smile and it shifted to a scowl.  
"Whazzat boy's name?" His voice crackled with phlegm and Edward winced at the roughness of it.  
"He believes he is my friend. He's also my target." He muttered. "You'd do well to stay out of my way while I handle my business."  
The Templar man stared at him with suspicious eyes. "Izzat so?"  
"Yes, it's so." Edward leaned beside him, against the wall. "So shut yer buggin' mouth before I stuff it full of lead."  
The Templar man- despite towering over Edward- seemed to take him seriously and slowly backed away, nodding to him.  
"And don't follow me again, you bastard!" Edward called after him.  
With nothing left to do, he began roaming the streets of Havana, wondering what to do next. For a time he considered going back, but wanted to avoid Woods and the governor as long as possible.  
Once he caught a glimpse of red and white on the rooftops above him, Edward knew it would be a good idea to head back.  
He didn't even get halfway up the street.  
Something whistled in his ear, right before a heavy weight fell on his back. For a moment, Edward was worried someone had decided to throw a crate out the window, but then he heard the scrape of s hidden blade, and knew what was about to happen.  
Cursing loudly, he struggled to turn onto his back, but he was held in place by the Assassin.  
Something cold pressed against his neck.  
"Get the fuck off me!" Edward yowled, trying to reach up and swat it away. Desperation began to fill him as the hidden blade dug deeper into his skin, nearly about to cut into his neck-  
"Dunlap!!" The weight was taken off him, the pressure disappearing. Panting and grabbing his neck, Edward sat up, to see James on top of an older Assassin, who was at least in his forties.  
The Assassin shoved him off, reaching for Edward. James pulled him back, grabbing his arms.  
"Stop it, Dunlap! He's not a Templar!"  
Edward backed away glaring at the Assassin.  
Dunlap stepped forward, his dark eyes betraying his intent. Edward leapt aside in time for the hidden blade to bury itself in the wood of a wall, and Dunalp swore, trying to pull it free.  
James grabbed his head and slammed it forward, into the wall. It met with a crack and Dunlap slumped to the ground.  
Edward moved his hand from his neck, startled by the red of his own blood. James gave him a worried look, reaching up. When Edward pulled away, he grabbed his chin and tilted it up.  
"Don't move, Edward. You're all right. It barely broke the skin."  
"What the hell was that for?"  
James stepped back and wiped his hand on his clothes. "Ah'm not sure. Dunlap must have seen a contract for your head and gone for it. You're a prominent Templar, Edward."  
"But you said...."  
"To save you. Only to save you. And only because ah don't see you as a Templar. It's just not you, Edward. The decision is yours to make. Just be ready to defend yourself from Assassination attempts. Once one happens, they come almost every day."  
"You're not going to help me?"  
James began to walk away, stopping to pull Dunlap's hidden blade from the wood. The unconcious man's arms flopped into his face. "Why should ah? Think about that, Edward."  
He would.


	8. Change

Edward pulled off his coat and shirt, tossing them onto the desk. The room Torres had provided him with was stunning, more lavish than he's ever seen.  
A tall mirror stood next to the door, and an open balcony was set in the all, across from the bed.  
Oh, the bed.  
With a satisfied grin he crawled onto it and allowed himself to relax, reaching over to turn off the candle at the beside. When the extravagant room was shrouded in darkness, he lay back, sighing in near contentment.  
The words of James Kidd were not ones to be forgotten, it seemed.  
***  
Edward sat up, blearily rubbing his eyes, a catlike yawn escaping his mouth.  
Early morning light shone through the windows, turning the room blue. He rolled from the bed, eyeing the clothes he'd worn the day before with displeasure at the sand that caked them.  
So he turned to the large dresser, pulling out a strange looking cotton shirt with longer sleeves, a dull brown color.  
Edward looked toward the desk, wondering if Torres would notice. He decided that no, he wouldn't, and pulled it over his head.  
His shoulders wouldn't fit.  
Edward swore and took it off, comparing it in size to the shirt he'd worn before. Similar, maybe a few inches ipsmaller, but nothing drastically different. He clicked his tongue and looked in the mirror.  
He definitely hadn't gotten fat, that was for certain.  
Edward's arms and shoulders were larger than he remembered, and his torse was much stockier than the last time he'd looked in the mirror, in Bristol with Caroline. The thing that surprised him most was the muscle he saw. When he lifted his arm, the muscles seemed to coil and bunch, then relax when he let his arm flop to his side.  
Dear God, he was muscular.  
But there was something else different, too. When he' seen his own, sea-blue eyes, he remembered seeing dull, tired thoughts behind them. Now they glinted like flint, bright as a pin.  
Edward put the cotton shirt back in the drawer and pulled on the cloths he'd worn the day before, when he realized he'd forgotten something.  
He hadn't met James Kidd at the docks.  
He cursed loudly, tugging the door open with such ferocity that it swung back and struck the wall.   
Torres stood with a surprised look on his face, his hand where the doorknob had been.  
"Uh... what's the issue?" Edward asked nervously.  
Torres blinked and shook his head, "I was told an attempt was made on your life yesterday."  
"Yes..." He said uncertainly.  
There was no way the governor should have known that. No one had seen him but Kidd, and he had a lot of apologizing to give the young man.  
"It will happen more and more. I, myself, have had many Assassins come to kill me."  
"No wonder." Edward snorted, stepping out into the hallway, "You're a Templar."  
"Well..." Torres flitted ahead of him, his beady eyes dsrting from left to right. "I was curious if the Assassin boy.... told you anything."  
"You sent the man to follow me."  
"I did n- Yes." The Templar switched his answer, too slow for Edward not to catch on. "He said you seemed to be heavily considering switching sides."  
"Heavens above, no!" Edward declared, forcing a convincing look. "Why should I; Someone from the Order has tried to kill me."  
"It would seem," Torres began quickly. "That he was mistaken. I'll see to it that he is informed of his misconduct."  
"Thank you." Edward replied, waiting for the old man to walk ahead of him and around the corner.  
When he as gone, he sagged against the wall, breathing a sigh of relief.  
He hadn't been caught.  
Now all he had to do was get to the docks.


	9. Distrust (ABST)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how about a different POV? (ABST) Means it's told from the Abstergo worker's viewpoint.

"Hey."  
You turn around from the Animus, to see one of the Abstergo employees eyeing you carefully.  
"Hey."  
"So, I've been told how much of a good job you're doing with this Animus thing. It's interesting isn't it?"  
"Yeah... kind of. The memories don't look easy for Edward, though."  
"Listen.." She leans in closer, her eyes narrowing. "I've been told there's a glitch in the system?"  
"A what in the system?"  
"A glitch. Edward.... has he been acting different?"  
She sees the confused look on your face and reiterates. "I mean, had he had any thoughts about joining the Assassins?"  
The look on her face is threatening. Dangerous.  
Not the you'll-lose-your-job-if-you-fuck-up dangerous.  
The killing kind.  
Almost instantly, you decide to lie about it.  
"No... why?"  
"Okay. Good." She straightens, nodding. Her eyes have taken on a happy, peaceful light. "Just wanted to know. I guess I'll have to tell technical they messed up."  
"That'd be a good idea." You watch her go, then swing back in the chair to look at the small figure of Edward, balancing on the shelf. "What the hell did you do, Kenway?"  
It's just a figurine, but he seems to smirk back at you, as if to say, dig deeper into the Animus.  
With a sigh you look back at the screen, unsure if it's safe. Whatever that worker was here for, it wasn't to make sure there was a glitch in the system. Maybe the Animus isn't the answer. Maybe you'll have to look to Abstergo.  
A sudden, fleeting though shatters your ideas of marching to the admin and demanding to know the answer.  
What if Abstergo isn't doing this for the entertainment?  
It's likely. Templars and Assassins aren't an obvious part of history, it would seem. What Edward became involved in...  
You glance back at the figure.  
What the estranged pirate did before he knew what he was doing could very well be what Abstergo is after.  
The Observatory.  
It has to be the Observatory.  
You reach over and turn off the Animus,then stand and slowly make your way to the lobby. Once you're home, you plan on sifting through the Abstergo history files. Maybe....  
Suddenly you stop, turn, and stare at the Animus you just shut off.  
The Sage.  
He reappears all throughout the memories of Edward Kenway, and several others. Those several others, however, are in different times periods. Drastically different.  
You grin at the figurine of Edward before leaving for the night.  
Well, then.  
You'll just have to find the Sage once more.


	10. Chapter 10

"Kidd?" Edward spotted the young man sleeping in a chair by a harbourmaster, his head tilted back so far it looked like it hurt. "Kidd!" Edward repeated, louder this time.  
James groaned and sat up, blinking and rubbing his eyes. Then he narrowed them at Edward. "You were supposed to meet me last night."  
"I know... I ended up forgetting." He said sheepishly.  
"Well." James stood up, squinting in the direction of the early morning sun. "At least ya got here 'fore that sun set, knowing you."  
"You know nothing about me." Edward said flatly.  
James laughed- a high note that sounded very feminine when Edward heard it- and swatted his knee. "Really, now! Ah know you've a wife back home. Ah know y'ren't sure about them Templars. I know the drive of money is the only thing that brought you here. Ah know y'ren't adept for enslaving another man, and ah know you've got a temper fit for a barrel of gun power. D'you want me to go on?"  
Edward gaped at him. "How-"  
"It's all in the way ya carry herself, mate. You swing your hip forward like y'own the place- and you know what ah mean- but you tend to keep your chin down. An even mix of pride and shame."  
He twisted, lifting his arms to get a better view of his hipbones, "What? I don't think I do that."  
"Ask anyone, man. Now." He sat back in the wooden chair, spreading his hands. "Onto the topic of Assassins."  
Edward crossed his arms and waited for the young man to say something.  
"Well?" James asked, lacing his fingers behind his head. "What would ya like to know?"  
"Do the Assassins earn-"  
"Damn it, K'nway!" James thundered. He slammed his boots down with a loud thump, standing to his full height- still rather small, he had to look up- and poking Edward in the chest. "This is the only thing keeping me from granting ya to meet Ah Tabai. When you can pull your head from the dredges of money, find me."  
He grabbed Edward's hand, slipping a disk-shaped object into his fingers.  
Then he took off down the docks, disappearing into the crowd.  
Edward fumbled after him, shouting his name. Then he gave up, rolling his eyes to the sky.  
Money was important. Food that sat well in your stomach was important. A roof over your head that kept you and your family safe was important.  
He looked down at the object in his hand, turning it over in his grasp.  
The Assassin mark was on it, with long, lacing patterns resembling swords. A skull sat in the middle, crossbones underneath it. The Jolly Roger and Assassins.  
Edward looked back out over the city of Havana. He could aceept these Assassins. They didn't appear to be centered around loot and revenge and drink, but maybe there was more to life than just that.  
He tucked the disk into his coat, deciding within an instant he would find James within a week's time, and ask the young man to take him to 'Ah Tabai'.  
Whoever he was.


	11. Defiance

Rogers and Torres were waiting for him when he arrived back at the plaza.  
"Where were you?" Torres asked.  
"Just looking around Havana....." Edward trailed off as Woodes produced a small, square shaped glass vial, analyzing it in the sunlight.  
"You know of the Observatory." He stated simply.  
Edward eyed the vial, hesitant to answer. "Yes....?"  
"Then you should know it requires a sample of blood to, say, spy on a person the rest of their life."  
He pressed his back against the wall, nodding. Did he want a sample of his blood?  
"We're going to need-"  
"Eh, what he means-" Torres shot a pointed look at Woodes, who glared malaciously at Edward- "Is that all Templars are being asked by Grandmasters to put forth a sample of their blood, as a precautionary measure."  
"You don't believe I'm loyal." Edward growled.  
"We do." Woodes replied curtly. "I have given some of mine, and so has Torres. It's now your turn."  
"And just how, may I ask, do you intend to obtain- Fuck!" Edward failed to notice the hidden blade tucked into Torres' arm before he swatted at his hand, a thin line of blood appearing from his knuckles.  
"Apologies, Senior Kenway." Torres said, nudging Woodes' shoulder.  
Rogers nodded and held up the vial, showing it to Edward. "It's not that bad, mate."  
Edward clenched his fist and brought it up, taking the vial and pressing it against the wound. He watched as blood seeped into it, filling the small center. Then he threw it as hard as he could at Woodes.  
"Come on, mate! What would drive you to pull a stunt like that?" He snapped.  
Torres sighed. "Edward, must I repeat myself? It is a measure of trust. By keeping a sample of your blood, we are able to ensure you are safe at all times."  
"Am times? I'm safe more than half the time!" He barked. "It sure as hell ain't just to 'ensure my safety'!"  
"Calm down." Woodes bent and picked up the vial, studying it. "You wouldn't be offended if you've nothing to hide."  
The bastard was right; the more angry Edward became, the more obvious it was that he was hiding something.  
"I'm only disappointed in the fact that you didn't trust me to give you consent to my own blood." He said, in a restrained tone. Woodes and Torres shared a look, but nodded.  
"We do not doubt your loyalty to the Templar cause, Kenway."  
*****  
Edward balanced on the windowsill, looking back one more time to make sure he was not being followed.  
Then he leapt away, the wind whistling in his ears until he struck the haystack. It had always been a strange thing to do, jumping from a high place onto a haystack, or pile of palm fronds, but it was a lot better than sticking the bare ground.  
He made his way out of the plaza, into the now quiet city of Havana. It was a an hour or so after midnight, and he was willing to compromise a few hours of sleep to search for the Assassins.  
He wanted to join them.


End file.
